


MESSAGE FROM THE KING

by lauxeyson



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauxeyson/pseuds/lauxeyson
Summary: After you started dating your dealer, you are introduced to the world inside. When he leaves you in charge of keeping the ship afloat, you struggle to keep your head over water.





	MESSAGE FROM THE KING

He was dangerous.

Selfish.

Confident.

Maybe that’s what drew you to him. Maybe, it was because he was a stereotypical ‘bad boy’, and you, like any other girl, had some crazy fantasy about it all. Perhaps it was the smirk he threw your way every time you met up. Or the small remarks that made both your knees weak and cheeks burn.

His eyes trailed down your body, hands following, in a simple gesture of appreciation.

“Careful, baby. Keep this going and I might have to eat you up.” Dirty jokes was a standard with him, a norm when being in his bubble.

He had a reputation, everyone who’s anyone knew that. You didn’t mess with Pietro Maximoff and live to tell the tale. You owe him money, you piss him off or you screw him over, well, you’re a dead man walking. His kill count was through the roof, adding on more and more each week. To outsiders he was a cold blooded killer, but to the few on the inside, it was his job.

He was intoxicating.

His entire being caused a fire in your soul.

Maybe that’s why you were always a mess after seeing him. He was your own personal drug, more effective than anything else you had ever tried. He left you on edge for hours on end, made your blood rush like never before. The adrenalin pumped in your veins by just being close to him.

He was king around town.

He loved it when people were in debt to him. When they owed him money, money they couldn’t afford to pay. That meant he controlled them. He owned them. They had no other choice but to do as he commanded. If those poor souls couldn’t come up with the required money in a few days, then poor souls indeed.

You had to the privilege of being allowed on the inside. Inside of his walls and beyond his security. But that never meant you got to see the real him. Pietro only showed you his ‘play’ and ‘business’ side. He never talked about anything important with you, not that you ever talked at all. When he occasionally did open his mouth to speak, he only spoke of the business and ushered you out the door.

You were the only other person who got to sit on his throne. It came as a surprise when he allowed you to sit there without any kinky subtext. Slowly he loosened up to the idea of having you around more.

You sat on his lap as his men beat the living hell out of some addict who couldn’t pay his debt. You sat there and watched with him, not because you enjoyed the show, but because Pietro did. He got off to it, to the brutality of it. And if there was anything you wanted, it was to please the king. God only knows what would happen if you refused.

He let you in charge of a deal once, and was pleasantly surprised when you came back with twice the money he asked. After that you climbed the ladder quickly. He made you a person of importance. Both to him and the business.

He had his secrets, just like everyone does. But being a drug dealer, a drug lord, he had more secrets than anyone could imagine. If you tried to get personal, get under his skin, he shut you out. It was in those times that you painted a picture for yourself, imagining what he may be doing. Cleaning up a mess from a deal gone wrong. Hunting down the few who dared snitch on him and taking care of them. Lounging by the pool, burning off the last profit from last week’s trade.

Pietro didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. In fact, he liked it. He loved being in control of another person’s life. Their life was literally in his hands when he stood with a knife to their throat. Only when he was busy with you he would let his men do the kill. And as much as he liked the kill, he loved the hunt. He said it made him feel alive. More so than the dealing ever did.

When at last he let you back in, he never let you out of sight. God knows he was possessive. He knew what you liked, he knew what buttons to push. He seemed to be dressing a certain way whenever you were around. Even though he would never admit it, you had a feeling it was because of you. He left his shirt unbuttoned; a slick suit jacket draped over his shoulders, the tight suit pants you liked so much hugged his assets. His hair slicked back, only for you to mess up. He knew how much it got to you when a few strands of hair would fall in his eyes, so he started doing it on purpose.

He started as your dealer. You only met when you needed your fix and it was always you who called him. He was always flirting with you, sending you looks over his shoulder and sweet talking you. But it was only after you received the first “Why don’t you come on over, kotyonok?” that things became more serious.

Pietro was possessive, but that did not mean he was faithful. Countless times you walked in on him with another girl. Some other whore that thought she could land a score. But it was not your place to get upset. No matter how much it hurt. He wasn’t yours to be upset about.

If it had been you with another man, Pietro would have lost his mind.

After some snitch got him locked up for drug possession, he dismissed you more and more. All that went through his mind was to find the poor bastard and end him. You tried calling, even if you knew how he hated you being clingy. You texted him, but never got a reply.

He would only reach out when he needed company. When he couldn’t get a hold on anyone else.

“Why don’t you come on over, lyubov moya.”

It was wrong of you, and you knew it, to get so excited. Hearing from him always made your blood rush. The fact that he called you was a victory on its own. He wanted you, not some cheap skank he could easily pick up from the street.

Maybe you made him feel different. Maybe you could take his mind of it. Of everything. Possibility was that you made him relax, unwind.

The police caught a whiff of him one late September night. Someone new ratted him out to save their own ass. Pietro saw no other choice than to go underground for a while. They would never stop chasing him around and if he got caught, he would go away for a long, long time.

His empire could not fall into some other rats hands. That’s why he left it all with you. You had to be the queen and sit on his throne, keep a watchful eye on the business he took so long to build.

You grew accustoumed to your new role. It was easy to see why Pietro liked it so much. The amount of power and control you had over people was incredible. With your innocent appearance and normal façade, it was likely you would never be caught. You learned all the tricks. Who and who not to deal to, who was likely to rat you out, how to keep them away from your doorstep.

Business was blossoming under your rule.

It was only when the syndicate demanded more money that troubles began. They, just like you, saw how good things were going and jacked up their prize. The syndicate acted as your supplier. That’s where the drugs came from, for you to deal to the public. All profit you made at trades, half went to the syndicate and half went to you. But their new prize range was unrealistic. Even as good as things went, you couldn’t afford it.

Of course, that pissed them off. Big time.

You and a handful of your most trusted men went on the run. You’re head hung low for a while, until one day an idea struck you. It was unconventional, dangerous and flat out stupid. But it was the only thing you thought could help. If only Pietro was around, he would know what to do.

A bit over a year after he disappeared, your problems with the syndicate was dead and buried. In your first year as a drug dealer you managed to do what others never had. You brought an end to the syndicate.

Now you were in control of it all.

Everyone feared you. They knew what you were capable off and how far you’d go to protect your business. Everyone wanted to be you. They wanted your power, your empire. That put a target on your back. The ones that was to scared to cross you treated you like a queen. But it was lonely on top without your king. The crown was simply too big.

You kept up the façade that everything was peachy. That you had control and everything went according to plan… but you didn’t. It was all slipping from your grasp. No one had heard from Pietro at all. No one knew if he was dead or alive. Who knew where he was and what he was doing.

You sat alone in your penthouse apartment looking over the city at night. Pietro bought it after the big trade of 04. Even though he hadn’t stepped foot in there forever, it still felt and smelled just like him. His musky cologne hung heavy in the air and the few shirts still left in his closet held his natural sent. It was sad to see them hang there collecting dust.

Your mind travelled to the times when he was the one in charge. He made it look so easy. So effortlessly. All you did was hang around him like a parasite. A chain that weighed him down. It was clear to see now. In your profession, there was no room for relationships and romance. A occasional hook up could be spared from time to time, but never anything more. It was categorized as unethical and unnecessary. 

You were never more than a distraction. Just another junky he could take advantage of. Still you chose to believe that there was something else. Something more, something that caused him to keep you around. Others came and went. But not you.

He gave you his throne, his empire, everything he had.

All except his heart.

He was different with you. The way he looked at you, spoke to you, touched you. He was never gentle, but he was, in his own twisted way, affectionate.

You were swimming in blood. In over your head, but clean. Couldn’t have the dealer using all the drugs, there would be nothing left to sell. You barely kept your head over water as it was. You were one day away from giving up on it all. There was no way you could keep things running on your own. And if yet another day came, where you had to push yourself above and beyond your limits, you would walk away from it all.

It was in that moment that faith decided to send you a sign. Easier tidings were coming and you felt hope building in your chest as you read the message over and over.

“Mind if I come on over, kotyonok?”


End file.
